High Times
by Aphrodite420
Summary: *FORMERLY CALLED "BREATHE"* I have decided to extend this into a series of one-shots depicting the high times of the Enterprise crew. Crack-fic.
1. Spock's Pot

***Update* **

**A/N: As you may have noticed, I have changed the title of this fic from "Breathe" to "High Times." I'm having too good a time writing Pothead!Spock to stop now, so I have decided to extend this into a series of one-shots, and I'd rather post them as one story rather than separately. I *do* have a few more ideas for what I call my "potfics" so I should be back soon with more (as well as with an eventual sequel to Inhibitions, which I assure you I haven't forgotten about, cannabis or no).**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek. I wish I did, but I don't.**

**A/N: Nyota catches Spock doing something naughty. Established relationship. My first crack-fic, so let me know what you think.**

**Um... yeah... this idea for a one-shot has been bouncing around in my head for some time and I finally got around to writing it. This is not in any way connected to my other fics, and in this fic Spock and Nyota are already together at the Academy (I tried to write this as happening on the Enterprise, but I just couldn't see it happening that way). **

**If you are offended by "drug use," I suggest you not read this.**

**And considering the subject matter, it would be logical to expect some OOCness.**

**Dedicated to all of the cannabis fans out there!**

**Spock's Pot  
**

It had been a long day. It seemed as if the cadets were behaving more illogically than usual in Spock's classes as the summer holidays approached, not listening to a word he said as they chatted amongst themselves about the upcoming vacation. He had found himself on the very edge of his control all day, especially when he reminded them that, although summer break was less than a month away, classes had not yet ended, only to be met with eye-rolls and head shakes as the cadets returned to their previous conversations.

There were times when Spock regretted accepting his instructor position, and that day had been full of them.

A nice, long meditation session was in order. He had plenty of time before Nyota would arrive for their weekly "date" that usually consisted of watching holo-vids or playing chess, and the inevitable sleepover that always followed.

Not even bothering to change out of his black Starfleet instructor's uniform, Spock immediately went from the front door to the meditation mat that was rolled up in the corner of the living room. He spread it out in the middle of the carpeted floor and set up the incense holders. Once that was done, he went to an antique cabinet that stood in his bedroom (a gift from his mother) and pulled out a small wooden box with the representation of a familiar green leaf etched onto the lid.

As he settled down onto the mat, he pulled a paper bag out of his pocket. He had gone that morning before class to replenish his supply - a stroke of intuition, it seemed.

A pungent, almost piney smell met his senses as he opened the bag and took out a plastic container. He had paid quite a few credits to obtain this from the best dispensary in San Francisco, and one look at the succulent, fluffy green buds told him it would be well worth the money.

Opening the wooden box, Spock pulled out the piece of glassware that resided within. Another gift from his mother, who had found that this herb helped her quite a bit to deal with being surrounded by Vulcans, and was very grateful that Spock had recommended it to her.

Reaching inside the plastic container, he selected a particularly delicious-looking clump of fragrant green flowers and leaves covered in tiny red hairs. As he pulled the bits of dried plant apart with his expert fingers, its natural aroma wafted through the air. He breathed it in deeply, already anticipating what was to come. After the day he'd had, he really, _really_ needed this.

Spock packed the torn-up bud into the glass receptacle and reached back inside the wooden box for his antique lighter. Bringing the stem of the pipe to his lips, he covered the small hole in the side and touched the flame to leaf.

Once the ball of herb glowed bright orange, he moved the finger that covered the hole and inhaled. He held the smoke in for 15.5 seconds, the optimum amount of time for the best effect.

With a contented sigh, he exhaled. A large cloud spread over the living room, drifting in fascinating patterns around the light fixtures and furniture. He watched lazily for several seconds before lighting the pipe and taking his second draw.

While he did not approve of imbibing alcoholic beverages for the sole purpose of becoming inebriated, this activity helped him meditate and re-center himself. It afforded him a level of calmness and peace of mind he could find nowhere else. He had found it especially helpful once he became an instructor and needed to "relax," as humans termed it, at the end of a trying day.

Spock was considering taking a third hit before moving on to the rest of his meditation regimen when his door chime sounded.

He froze, the pipe halfway to his mouth. Nyota was much earlier than usual, but it could only be her. And while his actions were not illegal in any way and had not been for centuries, Spock had never told Nyota about this particular habit of his. It was a deeply personal thing for him; a spiritual ritual, he might say, and he did not know Nyota's stance on the subject. Many humans still disapproved of this 'drug'...

Spock shoved the half-smoked pipe, lighter and plastic container into the wooden box, and, knowing he did not have time to stow it away in the cabinet before Nyota used the authorization code he had given her to enter his quarters, he stuck it under a pillow on the sofa. He stood from the mat just as the door slid open.

"Why didn't you answer?" Nyota asked as she entered his quarters and kicked off her boots.

"I was in the middle of my meditation routine," Spock answered truthfully. Too late, he realized as Nyota entered the living room that he had forgotten to light the incense to mask the smell...

Nyota stopped dead in the middle of the living room, and he saw her nostrils dilate as she sniffed. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion as she regarded him.

"What's that smell?" she asked.

Spock's heart pounded in his side as he wondered if she would recognize the scent - and, if she did, what her reaction would be. But before he could reply, she shrugged and plopped down onto the sofa, the wooden box coming dangerously close to being dislodged from its hiding place.

"I must be imagining things," she muttered.

Relieved, Spock felt the tension drain out of his shoulders. Now that the danger seemed to be have passed, he could continue to enjoy the light buzz he felt in his whole body.

"Shall I make tea, Nyota?" Spock asked.

"Sure. And then we can go straight to bed, if you want. Not that we'll be getting any sleep for awhile, anyway."

Her smile was mischievous as she looked up at him. And then, to his horror, she moved to place her head on the pillow where he had stashed his stash. As soon as her head made contact, she frowned.

"What's under here?" she asked, and Spock watched, rooted to the spot, and Nyota sat up again and pulled out the box.

She stared down at the symbol on the lid. She glanced up at Spock, eyes wide. When he neither moved nor spoke, she looked back down and opened the box.

"Spock..." Nyota asked slowly as she picked up the plastic container, its contents clearly visible and unmistakable for what they were. "What... is _this_?"

Suddenly, Spock's voice returned to him. "It has been called many things in addition to its scientific name, Cannabis sativa: Marijuana, pot, weed, reefer, dope, ganja, herb, hemp - "

"No," Nyota cut him off sharply. "I mean, what the _hell_ is this, Spock? How long have you been doing this?"

"I first partook of the substance eight years, one hundred and thirty-three days ago, when my roommate at the Academy - "

"But this is just an occasional thing, right?" she asked, glaring up at him as she took the pipe out of the box and brandished it at him.

Spock felt his spirits sinking, his buzz now completely gone. Nyota was angry. She obviously disapproved of marijuana. And now, he would lose her...

"I smoke it every day. It is a regular part of my meditation regimen," Spock admitted, his shoulders slumping.

"You mean to tell me..." Nyota's nostrils were flared, her dark brown eyes blazing up at him as she stood from the couch and shoved the pipe into his hands. "That we've been together for _six __months_, and during that _whole_ time you've been sneaking around, smoking dope? _Every_ day?"

Spock felt heavy as he watched his soon-to-be former mate swell with rage, her eyes now flashing dangerously. He clutched the pipe tightly in his hand, wishing desperately that his roommate had never introduced him to the world of sticky icky and aromatic clouds of smoke...

"Six. Months," Nyota breathed, gritting her teeth together. "I _never_ expected this of you, Spock."

Spock braced himself for what was about to come, his head hanging in shame. At least he still had a full ounce of marijuana to console him when she left...

And as he had expected, she finally exploded.

"SIX MONTHS, AND YOU NEVER _ONCE_ CONSIDERED SHARING?"

Spock stared at Nyota in amazement. _That_ had not been what he expected her to say.

Seething, Nyota began to pace the living room floor.

"I just had the _worst_ day ever! A cadet ran into me in the corridor, and my PADD - which held all of my notes for my finals, by the way - fell out of my bag and was _completely_ destroyed, and I can't find the damn back-up zip _anywhere_ in my dorm! On top of that, Gaila is, right now, banging that pig, Jim Kirk, in our room. I actually _walked in_ on them mid-coitus! And then I come over here only to find out that my _boyfriend_ has been smoking weed for _months_ without telling me, never even _once_ considering the fact that _**I**_ might need to relax every once in a while, too!"

She breathed heavily, her fists clenched at her sides. Spock stared at her, unable to speak. Then, wordlessly, he took the antique lighter out of the box that lay abandoned on the coffee table, and held it and the pipe out to her. Nyota scowled at him, but snatched the items from his hands and plopped down onto the sofa again.

"Damn sneaky Vulcans..." she grumbled as she lit the bowl and inhaled. She closed her eyes and released the smoke with a sigh. "That's better," she mumbled as she sat back on the couch. She then looked up at him with half-lidded eyes. "Come on. Sit down," she said, patting the space next to her.  
"I admit that I did not expect you to approve of my indulging in this substance," Spock said as she sank down next to her.

Nyota waved her hand dismissively at him as she handed the bowl to him. "Spock, marijuana's been legal since the early twenty-first century. Who _doesn't_ toke up?"

Nyota's bad mood gradually faded away as they passed the pipe back and forth, and by the time they were on their third bowl, she seemed quite relaxed. Spock himself felt pleasantly tingly in all his extremities, a dense fog clouding his mind. He had never smoked so much in one sitting before, and his body felt heavy as he sank back into the cushions, Nyota's legs now thrown over his lap as she laid back on the sofa.

"This is some top-quality pot, so I'll forgive you this time, Spock," Nyota said, her eyes closed. "But you really need to learn how to share."

While Nyota was by no means an unpleasant companion, the idea of regularly sharing his marijuana - the use of which was, supposedly, a spiritual experience for him - filled him with an unaccountable disappointment. He was accustomed to smoking by himself. It would be difficult to adjust to... _sharing_.

At that moment, both of their stomachs grumbled loudly. Removing Nyota's legs from his lap, Spock stood.

"I am experiencing hunger, even though I ate only four point three hours ago," he stated, swaying slightly before making his way through the smoky room to the kitchen.

"Ooh, bring me something to eat, too. I'm starving!" Nyota giggled as she sat up and struggled to light the pipe again.

Spock returned several minutes later with a bowl full of...

"_Spinach_?" Nyota asked incredulously, almost dropping the pipe as she gaped at Spock. "You get the munchies for _frozen_ _spinach_?"

"It is not only very palatable, but it is very nutritious as well," Spock said, somewhat defensively.

Nyota wrinkled up her nose as she set the pipe down on the coffee table. Standing without a word to her Vulcan smoking companion and lover, she headed into the kitchen.

Spock set the bowl of frozen spinach down and followed her. He found her opening and closing the doors of his cupboards, then she turned to the cooling unit. When she opened it, she let out a low groan.

"Spock... you _really_ need to consider stocking up on real munchie food, _especially_ if I'm going to be smoking with you! All you have is vegetables... and more vegetables... some fruit... and _more_ vegetables! Where are the Twinkies? The cupcakes? The salty potato chips that are a heart attack waiting to happen?"

She turned to him with a long-suffering expression on her face. "I love you, but I hate you right now."

"I apologize if my store of edibles is not satisfactory," he replied stiffly.

Nyota rolled her eyes and grabbed him by the arm to lead him back out to the living room.

"I guess spinach will have to do. I'll remember to bring some _real_ food when I come next time."

They returned to the sofa, where Spock sat down and Nyota sat on his lap. Picking up the pipe, she lit it again and took a hit before leaning in close to him, her lips soft against his as she blew the smoke into his mouth. He was unfamiliar with this method of obtaining marijuana smoke, but complied readily; once he had inhaled, Nyota's lips caressed his gently in a kiss, her hands cradling his face as she pulled him closer. Her heart beat rapidly against his chest, her breasts pressing against him deliciously, her skin cool to his touch as he rested a hand on her bare leg.

"You know, Spock," Nyota breathed as she began to kiss a line from his jaw to his neck. "Marijuana heightens _all_ experiences."

"Indeed?" he asked, closing his eyes as she began to nibble on his earlobe.

"Yes," she whispered against his ear. "And that includes sex."

"I have never experimented with it," he admitted.

Nyota pulled away to give him a pitying look. He raised an eyebrow.

"That can be corrected," he added, his voice a low rumble as he tightened his hold on her.

And as he picked a giggling Nyota up and carried her into the bedroom, the spinach long forgotten on the coffee table, Spock decided that perhaps having a smoking companion would not be so bad after all...


	2. The Search for More Pot

**Disclaimer: I don't own it. I just enjoy making the characters potheads.**

**Summary: Spock is searching for some herb and finds it in an unexpected place.**

**A/N: As you may have noticed, I have changed the title of this fic from "Breathe" to "High Times." I'm having too good a time writing Pothead!Spock to stop now, so I have decided to extend this into a series of one-shots, and I'd rather post them as one story rather than separately. I *do* have a few more ideas for what I call my "potfics" so I should be back soon with more (as well as with an eventual sequel to Inhibitions, which I assure you I haven't forgotten about, cannabis or no).**

**So without further ado, I present to you all the second one-shot in my potfic series:**

**The Search for More Pot**

"You know what I wish we had right now, Spock?"

Spock looked up from his PADD at Nyota, who sat across from him at the small table in his quarters, her elbow propped up on the tabletop, chin resting in her hand. Her eyes were unfocused as she stared at the wall over his shoulder.

"Nyota, until the day we are bonded, I cannot, as humans say, 'read your mind'," Spock replied.

Her hand dropped as her eyes met his.

"I wish we had some weed," she said wistfully.

Spock turned back to his PADD with a small frown. He understood his mate's desire for cannabis very well; the Enterprise crew had been kept busy lately with a string of dangerous missions and near-death experiences, and stress ran high. Marijuana would certainly ease the tension.

"Unfortunately, we do not," he said.

"And it's been so long," she said with a sad sigh.

"Six months, twelve days and twenty-two hours, to be exact," Spock stated with a touch of bitterness as he scanned a report for errors. "Considering the amount of marijuana you smuggled aboard the ship when we first set out, it should have lasted much longer than two months."

Nyota's eyes narrowed dangerously. "What are you trying to say?" she asked testily.

Unfazed, Spock met her steely gaze. "Due to your habit of consuming large amounts of our supply in one sitting, our current lack of cannabis is your fault."

She glared at him. "I had help, if I remember correctly," she said coolly. "And I only 'smuggled' it onboard because _you_ wanted me to."

"I never asked you to bring a prohibited substance onto the Enterprise," Spock said flatly.

"Not in so many words, but you bought it and then turned around and gave it to me as a 'gift'." Nyota made quotation marks in the air with her fingers and rolled her eyes. "You said _you_ couldn't take it aboard the Enterprise because _you_ had an obligation as the first officer to uphold the rules. And why else would you give me _three ounces_ of pot when we were leaving the very next day? You _obviously_ wanted me to bring it!"

Ignoring this statement, Spock returned to his PADD. "This discussion is pointless. We do not have cannabis, nor will we be able to procure more until our next scheduled shore-leave on Earth, which is not for another three months."

Nyota groaned at this news.

XXXXX

Spock had been perfectly able to function during the last six months without the soothing effects of marijuana, but once Nyota had mentioned her desire for it, he found himself feeling nostalgic for the herb as well.

Marijuana, like alcohol, was banned aboard Starfleet vessels. And, like alcohol, it could still be found aboard the Enterprise - if you knew where to look, that is.

Spock had suspected for quite some time that there was an underground... enterprise... aboard the Enterprise. He did not know who was supplying the product, but he had caught a whiff of the familiar smell numerous times as he passed crew members exiting their quarters. If that was not proof enough, their red eyes and vacant expressions betrayed them, as did their frequent trips to the mess hall for what Nyota termed "junk food."

Before now, he'd had no reason to investigate the matter. Captain Kirk himself overlooked the banned alcohol that found its way onboard, and would hardly care more about the presence of marijuana on his ship. But now that his beloved had voiced her desire for cannabis - and awakened the desire for it in him, also - Spock began to pay closer attention to the crew members he suspected were under the influence, in hopes that they would lead him to their supplier.

But, even though he watched them closely, and had even followed them whenever he could just in case they were going to meet their contact, he had been unsuccessful in procuring the green herb he so missed. Crestfallen, he began to give up on ever inhaling the sweet, sweet smoke again.

Then there came one lucky day when he decided to eat his dinner in the mess hall rather than his quarters as he usually did. He disliked eating there due to the noise created by the boisterous crewmen, but Nyota was still on the bridge and would not get off her shift for another hour, and he was disinclined to eat entirely alone.

As he sat down with his tray at an empty table near the corner of the room, he was in a very disgruntled sort of mood. Kirk had led them into yet another near-death experience that day, and unfortunately, the only cure for his sourness was nowhere to be found - even though it seemed to surround him.

He was picking at his spinach and reading from a PADD when he saw someone enter the mess hall out of the corner of his eye. Looking up, he saw Lieutenant Commander Scott, the chief engineer, enter the room. Spock was about to turn back to the scientific journal he'd been reading when he noticed that Mr. Scott was exhibiting some very odd behavior, and, curious, he watched him surreptitiously.

Glancing nervously around the room, Mr. Scott bounced on the balls of his feet and rubbed his hands together. Then, suddenly, he grinned broadly as he spotted something across the room. As Spock watched, the engineer made his way toward a table to Spock's left, where Ensign Chekov and Lieutenant Sulu were eating their meals.

"Aright there, lads?" he greeted jovially as he sat down across from them. Then, leaning in close, he added in a lowered tone that Spock could nevertheless still hear, "Have ye got somethin' fer me?"

"I haff a leetle, but you vill haff to get ze rest at Sulu's quarters later," Chekov whispered as he looked nervously around the room to make sure no one was near. "Do you haff ze credits?"

Spock looked over in time to see Mr. Scott pull out a Federation card worth twenty credits. He slid it across the table toward Chekov, who slipped it into his pocket and, still looking around, withdrew a small bag from the other. He placed his hand on the table and casually slid it toward toward the engineer, who quickly snatched up the tiny package.

Spock's eyebrow crept high up his forehead as he realized what was going on.

"Aye, I'll drop in later," Mr. Scott said. "Ye got some o' the best fire I ever had the luck to try, e'en better than what them dispensaries have. Me scotch supply is dried up and this'll have to do till I get me hands on some more."

"Don't forget, Scotty," Sulu warned as the other man stood. "The secret code is buzz twice, knock once, and buzz again."

"Aye, I remember," Mr. Scott said with a nod. "Now, time fer me to get that sandwich," he added, and then hurried away.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Chekov turned to Sulu.

"That was the last of eet. Vhen vill the next harwest be ready?"

"Shh!" Sulu said, looking wildly around. "Can you _be_ any louder?"

Spock quickly looked back down at his PADD as Chekov looked over in his direction.

"No one can hear me," Chekov said dismissively. "Not ewen Commander Spock, vith his Wulcan ears."

Still, Sulu leaned closer to his Russian friend. "The next batch is ready. I just need to break it up. You'd better hope you don't run out so fast this time, the next harvest won't be for awhile. It's getting harder to get ahold of seeds."

"Eet's not _my_ fault zis ship is full of potheads!" Chekov said, his brow furrowing. "Eweryvhere I go, eet's ze same! 'Chekov, do you haff more? Chekov, vhere ees my veekly dimebag? Chekov, Chekov, _Chekov_!'"

"This was _your_ idea, Mr. Businessman. Now shut up before someone hears you!" Sulu hissed.

The two humans fell silent as they returned to their meals. Spock sat frozen in his chair, staring down at his PADD with one eyebrow arched.

_Fascinating_, he thought. Nyota would be most pleased. And she would want to thank him in some very creative ways.

XXXXX

An hour later, Spock stood in front of Sulu's quarters. He rang the chime twice, knocked once, and chimed again. He did not understand why this was necessary, but if it led to a fat bag of fluffy bud, he would ask no questions.

The door slid open and Spock stepped inside. Sulu, whom he knew had a keen interest in botany, had converted most of his quarters into a botanical lab. Row after row of plants of every type and variety crowded the room, their unique scents perfuming the air. Spock immediately recognized the pungent aroma, and sighed inwardly with contentment as he knew that soon, he would be partaking of that plant with his Nyota.

Sulu was currently bent over a table in the corner, Chekov lounging in a chair nearby. Above them, all along the wall, there hung several marijuana plants that were in the process of drying.

"Just a minute, I need to finish tearing this up," Sulu called distractedly over his shoulder without fully turning around. Chekov, who was leaning his chair back on two legs and reading from a PADD, looked up. When he saw Spock walking slowly along the row with his hands clasped behind his back, inspecting the many specimens, the chair fell forward on all fours with a bang.

Chekov's mouth opened and closed, but the only sound that came out was a strangled groan. His eyes bulged in their sockets as he blindly reached over and tugged on Sulu's shirt.

"What is it, Pavel?" the helmsman asked angrily. "You made me almost drop a whole bud the size of my di- "

He stopped mid-word when he turned to see what Chekov was gaping at. His jaw dropped, and the bud he held in his hand fell to the floor.

"C-Commander Spock, sir," Sulu said, swallowing hard as his eyes darted around the room. "Uh... what a nice surprise?"

"I overheard your conversation in the mess hall and witnessed you give Mr. Scott a small bag. I have suspected for some time that someone was selling cannabis on the Enterprise against Starfleet regulations, and now I know who," Spock said as he came to a stop five feet away from the humans.

"It was _his_ idea," Sulu immediately said, pointing at Chekov.

Chekov stood from his chair with a look of fury on his face. "_You_ are ze one who grows it!" he said indignantly. "_I_ only handle ze finances! Don't put all zis on _me_!"

Spock realized, with some amusement, that Chekov and Sulu obviously thought he was there to punish them. Saying nothing to disabuse them of this notion, he bent over to pick up the clump of flower and leaf Sulu had dropped. He rolled it between his fingers to release the scent and examined the color of the tiny hairs on the leaves. Chekov and Sulu looked on, both visibly trembling, no doubt expecting him to tell them they were to be reported.

"This is high-grade quality, Mr. Sulu," Spock commented. "How much do you charge your customers for an ounce?"

Sulu's eyes widened. "Uh... sir?" he asked, as if not daring to believe what he had just heard.

"How much do you charge for one ounce?" Spock repeated, raising an eyebow as he looked up at the navigator.

"One - one hundred credits, sir," Chekov answered weakly, a sheen of sweat glistening on his upper lip as he gulped. "Sir, ve know you haff to report us - "

"We know we shouldn't have broken regulation - " Sulu began.

"I will take two ounces for the time being," Spock interrupted, setting the bud on the table, where there was already a large pile of the broken-up plant. "Lieutenant Uhura tends to consume the majority of my supply."

They both stared at him, mouths open wide. Spock's eyebrow rose higher.

"Do you often keep your customers waiting?" he asked.

"You - you're not going to turn us in?" Sulu asked faintly.

"Why would I turn you in?" Spock asked, tilting his head to the side. "Used in moderation, Cannabis sativa does not intoxicate the user and prevent them from completing their duties. As long as no harm is done to anyone involved and the ship continues to operate normally, there is no logical reason to report you."

Now both of the humans' mouths were opening and closing without a sound coming out. Then, finally, Sulu turned away and began to scoop handfuls of the herb into a bag.

"You're - you're really not going to report us?" Chekov asked disbelievingly as Sulu handed Spock the full bag.

"No, I am not, Mr. Chekov. I find this to be a rather honorable enterprise, one that is beneficial to all involved," Spock said as he turned away to head to the door. "I will forward the credits due to you tomorrow morning. Expect me back soon, Mr. Sulu. Lieutenant Uhura will have finished this by the end of next week."

He left, the two humans staring after him, their mouths still hanging open in shock.

XXXXX

"WHAT?" Nyota exclaimed, her PADD clattering to the floor.

Spock had returned to their quarters to find Nyota seated at the table. The bag of marijuana now lay there before her, its scent so strong that Spock could smell it even through the plastic.

"I have procured this for you," Spock repeated. "You said you desired it. Did I misinterpret your meaning?"

"No!" she hastily said. "_Where_ did you say you got it?"

"Lieutenant Sulu cultivates Cannabis sativa in his quarters, and Ensign Chekov sells it," Spock explained.

"So _that's_ where everyone's getting it from!" Nyota breathed. Wasting no time, she grabbed the bag and went to Spock's nightstand, where a small wooden box stood. Removing the marijuana leaf-emblazoned lid, she took out the pipe and antique lighter they had shared so many times before.

Nyota came back out to the living room, loading the bowl as she went, and collapsed onto the couch. Spock sat down next to her and she curled up against his side, the freshly-packed pipe in her hand. Spock ignited the lighter for her and touched the flame to the bowl as she inhaled deeply, before releasing a cloud of smoke that hung over the living room.

"I'm going to have to give Sulu a big kiss next time I see him," Nyota murmured, her eyes half-closed. "This is some really, really, _really_ good stuff."

"I would prefer that your lips not go anywhere near Mr. Sulu's," Spock said firmly. "And I cannot judge on the quality of the product, as I have not yet tried it."

Nyota held the pipe out to him and he took it, already looking forward to the haze of calm that awaited him. But just as she lit it for him, the door chimed.

Spock looked over at Nyota, whose eyes were wide as she stared back.

"Let's not answer it," she whispered, as if she was afraid whoever stood outside the door could hear her. "They can come back later."

Spock considered this for a moment. But then their visitors pounded insistently on the door with their fists and called through the thin panel.

"Come on, Spock, we know you're in there and we know what you're doing! Sulu just told us!" came the captain's voice.

Nyota groaned. "Leave him out there, Spock. He'll want some."

"He is the captain. He would not partake of this substance."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Really, Spock? Jim Kirk, not partake of weed?"

He thought for a moment. Then;

"Hide it. I have no desire to share."

Nyota quickly hid the bag of marijuana and the pipe under the sofa as Spock stood and went to the door. As soon as it opened, Kirk entered looking very smug. He was followed by a smirking Dr. McCoy.

"Well, well, Spock," the doctor drawled. "We thought we had you all figured out, but it turns out we don't know you so well after all, do we?"

"I _never_ would have pegged you for a pothead," Kirk said matter-of-factly, throwing himself down onto the couch beside Nyota, who scooted as far away from him as possible. "So where is it, Spock? Sulu told us you just got two ounces. Share, why don't you?"

"You are aware of Mr. Sulu's and Mr. Chekov's... business?" Spock asked.

"Of course," Kirk said, waving his hand at them. "I buy from them all the time."

"They get their seeds from the McCoy family marijuana farm in Georgia," McCoy said, his hazel eyes twinkling with devilish amusement as he seated himself in a chair. "Now come on, Spock. You're not going to share with your friends?"

Spock looked despairingly at Nyota, who shrugged her shoulders and leaned over with a sigh to retrieve the pipe and plastic bag from under the sofa.

Feeling distinctly disappointed, Spock sat down on the couch between his mate and his captain. No sooner had Nyota set the pipe down on the table than Kirk snatched it up and lit it, taking a long draw and expelling a huge cloud of smoke over their heads.

"Damn it, Jim, save some for the rest of us, why don't ya?" McCoy snapped, grabbing the pipe from the captain's hand. "You always do that," he grumbled as he held it up to his lips.

But for all his grumbling, the hit Dr. McCoy took was even larger than Kirk's. As he exhaled, he was overcome with a fit of coughing.

"Damn - it!" McCoy choked out as he thumped on his chest with a fist. "That HURTS!"

Kirk laughed, slapping his knee as he said, "You're too old, Bones! You can drink like a fish, but you can't take even _one_ hit without hacking up a lung!"

McCoy scowled as he passed the bowl to Nyota, but there was so little left that when she took her turn she got nothing more than a tiny puff of smoke. When she passed it to Spock, he found that there was nothing left but charred remnants and smoking resin. Suppressing his annoyance, he re-packed the pipe and took his first hit - but he'd barely inhaled when Kirk leaned over and grabbed it from Spock's hands.

"Don't hog it, Spock!" Kirk fussed before taking another hit, inhaling almost the whole bowl in one draw.

Spock drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, willing himself not to give in to his irritation. It had been difficult enough to adjust to sharing with Nyota, but this was proving to be ten times worse.

"So, Spock," McCoy said as Kirk passed the pipe to him. "How long have you been puffin' the ganja?"

"Nine years, two hundred and - "

"Long enough," Nyota answered for him as she took the bowl. She frowned down at it when she saw that, once again, there was barely a hit's worth left.

Spock took it from her and re-packed it again - but as he held it out to her and she reached for it gratefully, Kirk leaned over and grabbed it.

"It goes to _me_ after you, Spock. Just because she's your girlfriend doesn't mean she gets to double-dip."

When Spock looked over at Nyota, he saw that she was gritting her teeth, her eyes narrowed in a way that was all too familiar. It was the same look she always gave _him_ before she forced him to sleep on the sofa and refused to engage in carnal activities with him for a week. If the captain was not careful, there was no knowing what she would do.

"You know, I think this is Sulu's finest strain yet. It's some damn good weed," Kirk said, smoke spewing out of his mouth as he spoke. His eyes were glazed over, a grin plastered onto his face as he leaned forward to pass the pipe to Dr. McCoy. "Don't you agree, Spock?"

"As I have not yet had the opportunity to - " Spock began with a twinge of annoyance, but he was cut off by McCoy.

"Look, Jim, I'm not coughing any more! It's _always_ the first hit I cough on! Not such an old man after all, am I?" McCoy said proudly after taking another hit that engulfed him in smoke.

"I bet I can take a bigger hit than you! Give that back." Kirk motioned for McCoy to hand the bowl back to him. The doctor complied.

"Hey - wait!" Nyota said, reaching out to try to intercept the passing of the pipe, but she was too late. Kirk took it and lit it yet again.

This time his hit was so big that when he let it out, Spock couldn't see more than a foot in front of him as the room filled with swirls of smoke. Nyota was coughing and waving her hands in front of her face to clear the air.

"HELL yeah!" Kirk shouted, pumping his fist in the air as smoke continued to pour out of his mouth. Then he started to cough, doubling over and wheezing as he tried to catch his breath.

"_Now_ who can't take a hit without hacking up a lung?" McCoy said with a sardonic smile.

"Come on, will you _pass_ it already?" Nyota asked angrily as she recovered from her own coughing fit.

"Whose turn izzit?" Kirk asked, looking blearily around at them all. "Bones? 'Sit yours?"

"I believe it is _mine_," Spock said coolly, but no one seemed to hear him.

"I dunno... did I take a hit before giving it back to you?" McCoy asked, frowning.

Kirk shrugged, too busy looking down at his right hand to answer. "You know," he said as he slumped on the couch, waving the hand slowly back and forth in front of his face, "I've never noticed this before... but hands look really WEIRD!"

He then dissolved into a fit of giggles, clutching his stomach as he rocked back and forth on the sofa. McCoy, who was now staring down at his own hands, said; "Damn, he's right!"

Nyota pursed her lips and looked over at Spock, who was _not_ amused by these proceedings. He was too busy lamenting the fact that he was still mostly sober.

"Y'know..." McCoy said as he reached for the pipe and, seemingly forgetting that it was _not_ his marijuana, began to pack another bowl. "I don't understand why this stuff was ever illegal. Not only is it damned good, but it's better for you than alcohol. Not to mention all the medical uses for it..."

Spock watched resentfully as McCoy took another draw on the pipe. Kirk, who had finally calmed down from his fit of laughter, leaned over Spock toward Nyota.

"Hey... I gotta question," he whispered, as if he thought Spock couldn't hear him. "If you and Spock don't last, d'you think you could rebound with me?"

That was, as humans said, the final straw.

Spock stood abruptly, and both Kirk and McCoy blinked confusedly up at him. "I believe it is time this... gathering... should come to an end," he said, reaching over and plucking the pipe out of an indignant McCoy's grasp, just as the doctor was about to light it again. "I have an early shift tomorrow and have not completed my evening meditation."

"So soon?" Kirk asked, looking crestfallen.

_Not soon enough_, Spock thought to himself.

"Come on - one more bowl!" Kirk said. "I'm your captain... doesn't that count for anything?"

"Clearly, you have had enough, Captain," Spock said flatly.

"It's Jim, Spock. I keep telling you that. Call. Me. Jim," Kirk said slowly.

"Have a good evening, Captain," Spock said as he strode to the door and pressed the release button.

Looking disappointed but also very, very high, Kirk and McCoy filed out.

"We'll have to do this again!" Kirk called cheerfully over his shoulder as the door closed behind him.

Spock turned to meet Nyota's gaze.

"Never again," he said firmly.

Nyota nodded her head in agreement. "Next time, we won't answer the door."

He returned to his seat on the sofa and she curled up against his side. Although he desperately wished to take his first draw, he handed the pipe to his mate, who'd hardly gotten more than he had.

"I hope you have learned something from this experience, Nyota," Spock said as she lit the bowl.

"What do you mean?" she asked, releasing her smoke with a contented sigh. "What, that my captain and Dr. McCoy hog the weed?"

"No," Spock said, giving her a pointed look. "Now that you have experienced what it is like to have your smoking companion deprive you of cannabis..."

Nyota gave him a sheepish smile. "All right, Spock," she said. "I'll take it easy. Lesson learned."

And, relieved to be at last alone with his Nyota, he leaned back and lit up the pipe to smoke his cannabis sativa.


End file.
